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I don’t know what her name is, but I’m calling her Khaleesi because she’s petite and blonde like that, and whenever I whisper the pet name to her while she’s on my lap, she wiggles her ass against my crotch.
I’m hard, leaking, and fucked up as hell on booze and a few pills Dom gave me when Khaleesi pulls me off the couch and drags me to the bathroom. The door closes behind us, and that’s the last thing I remember.
When I wake up, someone’s barking my name, metal rattles, keys jingle, and I feel like I’ve been run through a woodchipper.
“All right, rich boy, you’re out. Someone posted your bail.”
3
DREW
I’ve got to hand it to Jericho. She tries, which is more than I can say for myself. I wake up with her on top of me. I don’t know if she got me hard, or if I was already hard, but she’s sure as shit fucking me now. Hands splayed on my chest, manicured nails digging in, rocking on my dick like I’m a bucking bronco.
And wouldn’t you know it—I’m close.
Instead of doing what my brain is telling me to do which is shove her off and ask what the fuck? I bite my lip and throw my head back. Am I even wearing a condom?
Doubt it.
For some unknowable reason, Jericho really likes me. Maybe even loves me. She’s way too good for me, but she’s extremely persuasive. In our nearly three-year relationship, she’s pulled out all the stops to keep me in New York when I’ve known for a while I should seek a future elsewhere. Still, I wouldn’t put it past her to try and get me to impregnate her. To give me a solid reason to stay—a reason to exist period.
“I’m gonna come,” I groan.
“Unh, me too…come in me, baby. Fill me up.”
“No.” I struggle, hands on her hips to hold her back, slow her down. I need her off me. “Jeri—Fuck…stop.”
She doesn’t.
My balls fill—threatening to unload. My cock twitches inside her as she continues to pound down on my hips.
At the last possible second, I remember I’m stronger than she is. It takes my mind a second to catch up because my body really wants to do exactly what she’s asking—come inside her.
But I wrestle her onto her back and finish what she started with me in control. I pump into her a few more times while she looks me in the eyes, and when I can’t hold myself off anymore, I pull out and jerk my spend onto her tits while she gasps and tilts her hips up for more because she didn’t come.
Serves her right.
I sit back, breathless and annoyed, glaring down at her. She pouts but rubs her hands through my cum on her chest. “Are you pissed?”
“Yeah,” I say.
Her eye contact doesn’t waver. “It’s just been a while.”
“You still on birth control?”
She gives a half shrug, gaze holding a challenge.
“Not cool, Jer.”
She rolls her eyes and turns to her side, one long leg sweeping over my head. I have to duck so she doesn’t clock me with it.
“Chris came in earlier. Said he needed to talk to you about something.” She picks her nicotine vape up off the nightstand and takes a long drag. The vapor forms a huge white cloud in the sunlight as she exhales. What fucking time is it anyway?
I have to work tonight. If the sun’s this bright, I should be asleep, not being taken advantage of.
But we’ve kind of had this thing between me and her since we started hooking up. If you want me, don’t ask. Just take. Cool? She believes in consent on principle, but she hates questions like “Can I kiss you?” “Is this okay?”
I gave her the same green light—just take—so I’m not really allowed to be annoyed by this—it’s our thing, that the consent in our relationship is more or less implied. However, I might need to renegotiate the terms. I didn’t like waking up like that at all. Not today.
